Trapped in a Mirror
by SofiaDragon
Summary: Before everything went Zorc-shaped in Egypt, things weren't exactly perfect for Atem. What actually happened all those millennia ago as the basis for the twisted memory RPG? What if Yuugi and Ryou had a chance to change things for their spirits? What if?
1. Chapter 1

_**Please read author's note**_: Well, it had to happen eventually. A very good friend is helping me with this one, and if it turns out to be a collaborative work then I'll be happy as a clam in mud. I've been interested in Ancient Egypt since middle school, and a YuGiOh! fan for even longer. I've never written anything for YGO that was good enough for public viewing, but I had to do it sometime. This is sort of a 'in medias res' prologue, which may be ret-conned out of the story, but I thought posting it and seeing what kind of reaction I got would be a good litmus test for this experiment. Basically you'd get this, and then the next chapter would go to Yugi's point of view starting a few years after the end of the original canon. 3,624 words, not counting author's note. Cross-posted to my LiveJournal.

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Guards fanned out along the entryway, on alert should any threat appear. Kalim dismounted his horse and waited for his King to step out of his carriage in front of the temple of Thoth. Several times a year this temple held a large celebration with an offering given to the god of the moon. The King was not required to be present at this small temple, but he kept his father's tradition of visiting once a year near the middle of the growing season. This offering was given at the start of the longest night, in counterpoint to an observation for Ra on the dawn of the shortest day. While the temple to Ra would be holding a robust and exciting marathon event lasting until sundown to encourage the Sun to lengthen the days again, Thoth's observance was traditionally a reserved event.

Kalim was glad to go; the reflective mood would be a nice way to relax before the grand excitement to come. Set, who had taken that name and his place in the sacred court just before the last flood, came with them. He got the impression that the severe young man would greatly enjoy the tranquil service with its rhythmic chiming bells and soothing chants. He'd not gotten the chance to get close to the younger man yet, and hoped that this would be a good chance for the unapproachable man to let down some of his defenses. Kalim also held a faint hope that it would sooth the King, though the cold young man often had a touch of melancholy as he remembered attending with his late father.

Rather than being in one of the cities, this temple had been built further away from the Nile at a small oasis. The distance from any city meant that this place was nearly always quiet, breeding the atmosphere of contemplation that brought scribes out into the desert regularly enough to support the temple financially. The local head priest, robed in green and blue, met them at the entrance. He knelt down to kiss the ground before the king. Horus touched the man's shoulder to acknowledge the gesture and then walked inside. Kalim was left, as was usual, to greet the aging priest. They walked into the temple proper and straight through the courtyard to the main temple building, the night breeze tickling the chimes in counterpoint to the soft harps the priestesses strummed in other chambers. They knelt before the god, the ibis-head statue draped with fine linens with a small pile of prayer scrolls and offerings already laid out at his feet. They sat for some time in quiet reflection, listening to the tranquil chants. When the song changed the group of three moved to a table to write out their own prayers to the god of Wisdom. The elegant pens and smooth scrolls were gifts from Thoth himself, and in this long night of moonlight it was fitting to use his tools to speak with him. Slaves brought forward the three heavy baskets they had as offerings and one by one they laid their prayers before the sacred alter.

The offering given, they backed out of the temple, being sure to never show their backs to the statue. They walked to another area where a dinner had been laid out for them. A gentle breeze was blowing steadily through the circle of pillars in the open gazebo, sheltered from the night's chill only by a few curtains and screens. The greetings were simple nods and they waited for Horus to take the first bite before the assembled priests and priestesses started eating and resumed their interrupted conversations. Brightly burning fires kept the area warm, though Kalim was glad for his thick cloak.

"It is nice to see you again, Priest Kalim. May I ask why Priest Mahado is not with us tonight?" the aging head priest asked as Kalim took his first sip of wine.

"It is nice to see you as well, Priest Tihuty. Mahado's wife has just become pregnant, and he felt he should spend the night with her praying in his home," he answered with a smile. "We have Priest Set with us in his stead."

"I hope his child will be blessed with Thoth's gifts, Mahado has always been a great supporter of the Lord of Words. It is also good to meet priest Set on this night of reflection," Tihuty replied. The stiff formality of the greeting would fade after the first course, and Kalim would be glad to see it go, but for now they had their parts to play.

"It is good to meet you as well," came the stiff reply. Set sipped his wine mechanically. He was trying too hard, in Kalim's opinion, to impress.

"Mahado deserves this blessing," Horus said. "He is a good man, and a loyal friend." Kalim nearly flinched at his king's tone. The fifteen year old man had always been a little cold, but to sound so severe about such a light topic in such a relaxing atmosphere…

Kalim took a long sip of his wine as Tihuty attempted to draw a quiet conversation from Set about the day to day goings on in this temple while the younger priest tried to decide whose example he should follow. For himself, Kalim moved over to another place to talk with some of the priestesses. Two of them were quite lovely and reasonably friendly. One was obsessed with perfecting her music and the other hopelessly drowned in her scrolls, but he was equally immersed in his own theoretical work. They managed a delightful game of verbal one-upmanship about their various passions. When Kalim moved back to the head table he saw that the king had decided to use wine to cure his poor mood, and had avoided being drawn into any conversation.

"I hope Thoth blesses you with his serenity, my King," Kalim whispered. Unfortunately there wasn't quite enough background noise in the gazebo to confuse the young man's sensitive hearing.

"Did you have something to say, Kalim?" he asked. The thin, deceptively frail shoulders shifted and a pair of unnaturally red eyes fixed on him. A slight blush colored the cheeks below them, evidence of the wine flowing in his veins.

"I only meant that you seem tense, my King. This is a time of rest and rejuvenation, and I worry that you have something burdening your mind." Kalim took a glass of milk, hoping to hint that wine was not the best answer to whatever troubled Horus tonight.

"Nothing burdens me tonight," came the automatic reply, but he fingered one of the rings on his left hand. Kalim did not turn away, knowing that if he waited the king would notice his own nervous fidgeting. "Perhaps I am slightly ill at ease."

"If I may be so bold, you have been ill at ease for some months. Is there anything that we could do for you?"

"I…" the king broke off, his gaze drifting to the stars beyond the pillars. "It is a personal issue." A few moments passed as they enjoyed the fine fruits and cheese. "It may be paranoia, but I have felt unsure of myself for some time. I feel alone, often."

"You don't visit the inner court often, perhaps…" Kalim left the suggestion unfinished. It was the King's business how often he visited his wives and Kalim, married only to his books, could not even pretend to be an expert in that area. Rumor had it that the king had some problem with his wives, and his last visit to them – a full three months ago – had ended in violent anger, but the holder of the Millennium Scales wasn't the sort to trust in rumor.

"That is increasingly unproductive," he grumbled in a rare moment of common teenaged petulance. "I'd get better company from a mural." Of course, when rumors were confirmed directly by the king himself that was another matter entirely, and Kalim was at a loss for a reply for some time.

"You and I are not very close, and I admit I enjoy solitude to a greater extent than most others I have met. Still, I would hope you consider all of the Sacred Court to be your close friends as well as your protectors. I can appreciate that may not be what you are talking about, but perhaps you think too much of your duties when you are in our company and do not relax properly when we are at rest," he attempted. He poured a fresh glass of milk for himself and set a second one before the king.

"I find myself longing for something I cannot name," he sighed. "I can't say when it started, but I feel I am missing something essential to my being. Recently I am jumping at shadows." The king was not an emotional person, and this confession was disturbing in its raw misery. Kalim felt distinctly ill equipped to deal with this, and wished Isis had come with them. Despite his position he was far from being considered one of the king's closest confidants. That the king was even speaking of this to Kalim was significant in and of itself.

"I am at a loss."

"As am I," the king said with a resounding finality. Silence reigned for some time, the quiet conversations around them not quite reaching the awkward pair.

"When I am at an impasse in my work, I find it helpful to take a walk under the stars. The moon is bright and full tonight, and the Temple dressed in finery. There could be no better place to hope for divine inspiration, I think," Kalim spoke as he stood up and straightened his cloak. "Care to join me?"

"I will," the king hesitantly replied, and Kalim would bet his initial impulse had been to decline. They fell into step amid the scattering of potted plants that decorated the courtyard. The central courtyard was flanked by a library on one side and the gazebo where they had been dining on the other. The main temple housing Thoth was in the back and a gate keeping building was in the front, with the resident priests living below ground between the library and gateway. Smaller structures were scattered about, housing essential services like restrooms and storage for the care of the plants. In the center the oasis had been edged in marble, creating a lovely rectangular pool that reflected the sky. For the occasion, more flowers and decorative banners had been placed throughout the Temple complex. They walked around the front end of the courtyard, pausing when the wine caught up with the king. When he was finished his business he rejoined Kalim at the eastern edge of the pool.

"A universe reflected in a still pool," Kalim sighed. "It is such a simple beauty."

"A pale reflection…" the king whispered back. "That is exactly what troubles me."

"What is?" Kalim asked, keeping his voice low.

"My life; I perform my duties to the Gods, maintain the peace my Father's work brought, and I punish those who ignore the rule of law, but nothing ever happens. I do not wish for some great upheaval to happen, but each year turns the same as the last, like I am caught between two mirrors. The past and future look exactly the same." Horus reached out to the reflected stars, his entire form downcast and longing. "I could not wish for more than I have: no threat from invasion, minimal problems among the people, stable balance of power among the scribes, and no threats to my own power. We are reasonably prosperous with no great plague or crop failure to speak of. The past five years, for me and my people, have been good but not without the normal small inconveniences and troubles of life. Nothing explains this anxious felling."

"My king, I do not wish to bring you pain by saying this, but you loved your late father dearly and he cherished you the same. He was a good and noble man, and I remember him well from when my own father served him, even though I did not live in the palace with you and saw him rarely. There has been some talk among the scribes about your lack of an heir. The change you long for could be the kind a child would bring. A bundle of excitement and unpredictable joy from the gods could…"

"I am incapable."

"I… There are potions and other methods to assist…"

"Mahado supplied me with them; they do not affect me properly."

"Could it be the woman?"

"I don't get far enough to find out. As I said before, visiting my wives has become increasingly unproductive."

"Ah." On Kalim's personal list of awkward conversations, this night was rapidly rising to the top. For a man whose life's work involved researching eclectic illnesses, that was saying quite a lot. After you've asked a woman about her fluids, most anything fails to register. "At least we have found a topic I am well acquainted with."

"You are…?" The king turned from the pool, shock clear on his face.

"For a time, as a side effect of some of the elements I was working with in my study. When I finally located the cause I took measures to protect myself. Such problems always have a source, though I doubt you have been exposed so such exotic toxins in your own magical practices. I could take a look at your study room to ensure that is not the case, if you wish." Kalim took a breath. "It was during my apprenticeship and the original cause for my lack of a wife. I have studied this intently."

"I would appreciate it if you would, but my studies are more often theoretical rather than practical. I have also changed my work several times in the past three years, so it is an unlikely source."

"Nothing for three years, then?" Kalim managed to restrain his shock to a slight twitch of his fingers.

"No, it was more gradual than that. I simply fail to find joy in it, and potions to enhance potency don't do anything to replace that…" He waved his arm, as if he could snatch the proper words from the air. "…that apathy. A child does sound like a good idea and I would like to become a father not only to find joy in fatherhood as my father found joy in me, but also to supply Kemet with a proper prince or princess."

"And so we arrive back at the original problem: an intangible sensation of meaninglessness."

"I know my life has meaning. I am Horus, and I must fulfill my duties as the Holy King and Son of Ra. I just…" he reached out again toward the pool. "Sometimes when I look at my reflection I… but that is a most ridiculous vanity!" he suddenly fumed. "It is not that I am so in love with myself that… I truly feel it is not myself that I see when I look there. I see someone I do not recognize, though the most obvious features are the same. What other man has such unnaturally streaked hair? Yet the eyes are not my own, too pale and soft taking more of the silver or blue tint of the mirror than they should."

"Your reflection is not true?" Kalim asked, half fearful his king had lost something of himself and half curious about this possible sign from the gods. He leaned over the shorter man's shoulder, looking into the pool. "It could mean something."

"I do not know if the light is enough to see by," the despairing man said as he leaned over as well, bringing his face into full view of the pool. "The moonlight itself changes the tone, but…"

And it was true, Kalim's own skin looked much darker and duller than his king's despite the truth that they were the same tone. The shape and intense appearance of the monarch's red eyes was softer, both rounder and larger than they should be. He could not speak of the color; the pale moonlight had cast their reflections in shades of silver and gray, but the strange man looking up at them seemed kinder, gentler, and quicker to laughter than the king he knew. The expression was smiling and pleasant, though the king himself was clearly in distress. A thought struck Kalim, and he said it quickly before he could convince himself not to.

"Perhaps he is who you should be, or who you wish to be."

"You see him? Oh, by Ra I thought I had taken leave of my senses!" The king stepped back suddenly, bumping into Kalim in his relief. Instead of stepping away, he leaned slightly against the taller man's chest. However abnormal, he could not deny his king that small moment of weakness. Clearly, this had been weighing on his mind for some time. "Perhaps it was eight years ago, I was playing in the palace and caught sight of another boy in the hall. I chased after him, thinking him one of the slave children and wanting a game, but I found only a slab of polished black marble that had been recently gifted to the palace. I would occasionally walk past something reflective and see what I thought to be another person out of the corner of my eye, but I always put it off as my mistake when I discovered it to be myself."

"Do you always see this other person?" Kalim wondered, holding the king's shoulder just above the gold bands. The smaller man leaned into the gesture. His mind raced, trying desperately to offer anything that might deliver them from the chaos of this surreal confession.

"No, no… it was always intermittent, but it's become more frequent than not in recent days. I will look away from applying kohl to find him suddenly sitting in my place, or else he will be there all day save for some small moment of distraction. Some strange partner trapped in a shining surface, a silent specter following me about."

"You would have to ask Akanadin or Isis about this, or perhaps some of the older servants, but there is another possibility," Kalim soothed, still cradling the collapsed king. "I was only a child myself at the time, but I heard that you had a twin who died in childbirth." The king jolted as if bitten.

"I had a twin?" The King seemed more like himself again, standing straight and staring intently at Kalim as he awaited a more complete answer.

"As I remember, he never took a single breath and your mother followed him into the next life. I thought you knew, but perhaps that is part of why he is trying to reach you. I could also be mistaken."

"A twin…" the young man sighed, looking calmer than Kalim had seen him in some time. "A brother of mine, just waiting for me to acknowledge him; I can live with that if it is true." He leaned over the pool again. "Hello, then, I hope you mean no ill will against me." The reflection yawned suddenly and closed his eyes, startling both men away from the pool. Despite both of them backing away, the reflection stayed for several moments before fading away.

"He rests, as he should," Kalim assured, "Perhaps it was not you that felt so alone, but his emotions projected onto you." He turned to continue his assurance that from now things ought to get better, but was stopped by something he had never seen before. Horus had stepped up to the pool again and was frozen in place with silent tears streaming down his face. "My king?"

"He was forgotten. He just wanted me to remember him, to think of him, even once." The king crumbled to his knees, shaking. "I don't even know his name, and he still…" Some servants approached, and Kalim waved them off.

"My king, you can't be faulted for this. When we return to the palace you can speak with Isis and learn his name," he attempted quietly. "He rests now, it will be alright." The younger man would not be consoled, breaking down into outright sobbing. Kalim could think of nothing he could do but repeat himself, speaking softly as he would to a child. The king only crumbled further when Kalim touched his shoulder, bending forward until his tears fell into the oasis pool.

"I wished so many times for a brother when I was small. An equal, rather than a servant who wouldn't dare win a game against me. He came, and waited, and I was afraid of him," he quieted slightly, no longer sobbing openly.

"Do you feel better?" Kalim asked, dismissing those who were gathered to watch with a wave. The priests and priestesses turned away respectfully, satisfied that no assistance was needed. Set hesitated, and then took up a position just outside the gazebo to wait at the ready.

"I…" he started, reaching out over the pool, "I think I'm alone now. I don't know if I feel better or worse for it. Strange, that I might be lonelier now than before."

"If that was truly your brother, then you will see him again." Kalim looked at the reflection of the king, now an accurate depiction of the broken young man.

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Please, review.


	2. Chapter 2

There was something wonderful about riding an Akhal-Teke. The golden horses of Asia were something special. They weren't the fastest horses, but they had the greatest endurance of any breed. These were the beasts that carried the great conquering kings of Asia. Sure, Yugi was Japanese, but at the time the Japanese hated the Chinese just as much as the Mongols. The enemy of my enemy, and all that old philosophy, came into play here. They were living, breathing pieces of history that Yugi was honored to spend an afternoon reveling in. He hadn't gone far, he was just waiting outside the stable, but the power in the animal was enchanting.

"I thought you would enjoy this," a commanding but friendly voice startled Yugi out of his awe. "However, I didn't expect the stable boy to get a history lesson."

"I should apologize to him. He was just trying to be helpful," Yugi replied, bowing as low as he could while mounted. "This is a great honor, Prince."

"No apology is necessary, suggesting you would enjoy an Arabian mount more was pretentious of him," the regal man replied. "Just because you take pleasure in Ancient Egyptian culture doesn't mean you can't appreciate these beauties, or the glories of your native land." The silver haired man led them down one of the mountain paths. This was one of the few truly wild areas left to Japan. Aside from the small stable and lodge, Yugi couldn't see any buildings of any kind. The prince's horse matched his hair, while Yugi's was one of the true golden horses – something that Yugi thought wasn't proper given his current company's rank. A small protection detail blended into the background, soon becoming unnoticeable amid the wild landscape.

"Again, it was very kind of you to invite me here today, Sir. This is a beautiful place." Yugi breathed, looking out off the cliff to the sea.

"Please, relax Mr. Mutou, we are both crowned men, are we not?"

"You can't compare your crown to mine!" Yugi gasped. "You are the crowned prince of Japan! I'm… I'm just…."

"Perhaps it is premature, but you know how the winds are blowing. There is revolution in the air all around the world. While I am but the prince of one nation, you are set to lead men of many nations," the prince turned to Yugi, a hard seriousness etched into his normally kind face. "Your crown is not to be dismissed out of hand as a frivolity, not anymore."

"I… don't know what to say, Sir. I don't think I will ever rise to a level equal with true royalty based on a few tournaments," Yugi attempted, but the prince wouldn't have it.

"It is much more than a few tournaments. You are becoming a symbol of a new age. You represent the idea of a noble society where conflicts are resolved in an orderly, honorable, skill-based manner. The skills you employ are much the same as any other king: strategy, grace, nobility, tactics, and diplomacy," he gestured to the sea. "It's a wild thing, the tide you are swept up in, but there is a mighty power behind it and it is not something that will pass easily away."

"Begging your pardon, but I don't think I'm the person you think I am. There is a lot of hype and publicity put out by the companies I work with, but much of it is exaggerated." They started moving again.

"Do you think all that I am can be found in the public eye? All leaders of men are men themselves, and fallible by that admission."

"I would never argue that point; however, I doubt I'll ever become a leader of men. I might lead a few kids to spend their pocket change on a deck of cards instead of a soccer ball, but that's about it."

"I wonder if you are too humble, too easily manipulated, or simply too busy to realize how wrong that is, Mr. Mutou," the prince replied.

"Easily manipulated? How does being realistic make me easily manipulated?" Yugi sputtered.

"Perhaps the companies you work with are the ones convincing you of your place in the world?" Yugi just looked at the prince like he'd left his good sense back at the stable, unable and unwilling to actually say as much to someone if his stature. "Ah, humble and busy, I see. I also see that you know yourself too well to be manipulated by insults and backhanded compliments. I apologize."

"Do you really believe this whole dueling thing is going to blow up into something huge?"

"It is already quite strong."

"Please, Sir, you know what I mean," Yugi countered. The elder man sighed.

"There is a lot of talk, Mr. Mutou, that you will be able to influence the very fabric of society. If, and many believe this to be a foregone conclusion, the time comes where duels of honor once again become an integral part of society both here in Japan and across the globe, then you will be the one millions of people are looking toward for guidance and leadership. A young bachelor, with no obvious loyalties, wielding the kind of power that can shape the very fabric of society, is not something that helps the royal house sleep easy," the prince explained. "You see why I wanted to meet with you."

"I… Maybe I should think about this a little more," Yugi admitted. They rode on in silence for a while.

"You are a history major, correct?" the prince asked.

"I just finished my second year. I'm leaving Domino City College and heading to Tokyo University this fall."

"That's good to hear. Many duelists are expecting to make their living off of their games, and aren't continuing their education."

"My grandpa made his living off games for years and years, but it couldn't last. Eventually he lost a particularly dangerous game, and settled down to focus on family and business. He has a business degree, though he didn't go directly after high school. Grandpa's a lot of fun to live with, but he made sure I knew that school and hard work were important," Yugi boasted, happy to be talking about someone he loved. "Of course, he didn't give it all up. He still has a four-dan certificate hanging up in the shop, though he hasn't participated in any igo tournaments since I started middle school."

"What about your father?"

"He… well… that is… I don't see him very often. He won a few local tournaments when he was in high school. He's a banker for Domino Crest National Bank and he works 25 hours a day," Yugi shrugged off his discomfort. "I think the last time I talked to him was after my high school graduation. He apologized for not being able to attend the ceremony… or the dinner the next day. I live with my grandpa."

"I see, so you were raised by your grandfather exclusively?"

"Mom was around when she could be. She's an airline stewardess," Yugi sighed. "She'd be home for a day or two and then gone for a month. Dad used to go on business deals all over and they would work it out so they would be together when Mom had a day off. I was born the year after their marriage. That was about five years ahead of schedule, according to their plans. When grandpa and grandma offered to take care of me so mom could keep her career, they decided that when they were done traveling all over the globe they could come home and I'd be old enough to appreciate traveling with them."

"I can't imagine this story having a happy ending," the prince commented.

"They were gone so much I… sort of… forgot who they were. They came to the shop when I was three and scooped me up for a hug. I started screaming like they were kidnappers. Grandpa had to explain who they were. Grandma never forgave them, and I'm not sure I have either. They tried to be around more after that, but sometimes people have to live with their choices. I don't think it did their marriage any favors, either. I haven't seen the both of them at once in years," Yugi said mournfully.

"An unfortunate circumstance, but they made their choices freely. How about yourself?" he asked as they rounded another bend in the twisting path.

"What about me?" Yugi replied, confused.

"Is there any special lady in your life?" The prince smiled brightly.

"Oh! No, I don't… Well, there was someone I was close to for a few years, but just after high school she told me she thought of me like her little brother. That brought things to an abrupt end. Between the tournaments and my college work I haven't had much time to myself."

"This may sound horribly old fashioned of me, but would you be interested in an arranged date?" the prince asked casually.

"Well, that would be… what? Are… wait… Ah!" Yugi nearly fell off the horse in shock, the well-trained animal shifting uncertainly at the sudden fumbling of her rider.

"As I said, a bachelor with no obvious loyalties wielding the power to shape the fabric of society doesn't let the leaders of the world sleep easily. My eldest daughter is seventeen this year, and so is a bit young for anything serious, but for a friendly outing or an escort to one of the many formal functions…" the prince suggested vaguely. Yugi just sat and sputtered a few times. "Quite old fashioned, and there would be no expectations."

"I am honored," Yugi replied, sticking to the creed that anything true is alright to say, "but I don't think that would work out quit how you imagine."

"I don't have any expectations other than you being seen in public escorting my daughter, or the daughter of one of the other officials, on a pleasant evening. It is partially a matter of politics, but on the whole we would feel much better if you considered yourself our friends," the prince clarified, ever the eloquent gentleman. Yugi envied his grace, but then he wasn't the one being blindsided. Time to change that.

"Well, the public part is the problem… I don't think it would improve the reputation of any young lady to be associated with me right now," Yugi gulped. "There is a bit of a scandal just around the corner for me."

"You haven't done anything… dishonorable with a young woman?" the prince gasped in surprise.

"No, no, and nothing dishonorable at all from a more modern and less traditional point of view… The problem is my roommate."

"He's done something and you were involved, then? That can be smoothed over, I'm sure."

"He kissed me," Yugi said as plainly as he could, startling the prince nearly as bad as Yugi had been before. "I plan on continuing to live with him, though we don't have a romantic relationship at the moment. He was very drunk at the time. It was in the back room of a college party and there may or may not be pictures floating around of him leaning over me. He isn't normally that reckless, and we had a long talk about where the boundaries of our relationship are."

"That… would be an issue for any woman seen with you in the near future," the prince agreed.

"He was just trying to show his gratitude, in a very drunken way, for our friendship through the years," Yugi assured. "He was just as shocked when I told him about it the next morning as I was when he did it."

"This was Mr. Bakura?"

"Yes, Ryou and I have been through a few tough spots, but I've never doubted him and he's been very grateful for that," Yugi smiled.

"You mean when he was possessed by an ancient demonic force?" Again Yugi nearly fell from his mount. So much for a relaxing ride through the forest!

"How, exactly, do you know about that?" Yugi accused.

"Magic has been missing from the world for a long time, Mr. Mutou. There are families that have watched its decline and mourned its loss. It was slowly drained away, packed into one item of power or another by those who sought to increase their mastery over it. Some of these items slowly lost their potency, or suffered physical deterioration. Other items, once created, continued to feed of anything in their reach, slowly becoming more and more dangerous while draining away any chance of opposing them. Seven such items were destroyed about two years ago. The battle over them was too large to not be noticed, but too well hidden for many outsiders to get a good look at. This was a shadowy battle, full of illusions that became real if they were not conquered properly in a timely manner. It was terrifying for those who watched from the sidelines, fully aware that what they witnessed was not, in fact, some kind of hallucination."

"I… I never thought anyone was watching that closely. No one interfered or approached me that wasn't already up to their eyeballs in shadow magic."

"So it was, in fact, shadow magic?" the Prince asked, his expression somewhat worried.

"Yes," Yugi confirmed. "It revolved around shadow games where there was always the possibility of escape no matter how bad the illusion of doom was."

"Magic, though seemingly arbitrary, has one solid logical anchor that cannot be wrenched from it. Magic is, by its very definition, bound to the beliefs, will, and intent of all involved. In a sense, it is true that a curse cast on a person who does not believe in such things will not work because its effectiveness is damaged severely by the beliefs, will, and intention of the cursed." The prince paused as they rounded another bend, but Yugi had the feeling the speech was not done. Yugi would have his turn, he was sure.

"That is the great catch. It cannot truly harm you if you do not believe, but that protection does not extend to the world around you. Watching true magic performed will turn even the most grounded man's attention. This creates a domino effect, where one person's submission to a spell triggers others to fall. It must have latched on to the games you played as a source of stability and logical progression. Because there is always a way to win a game, there was always a way to overcome the magic. Tell me, Mr. Mutou, how do you think the conservation of energy effects magic given what I have said?"

"I imagine it would work like everything else. We believe that something can't come from nothing. It tires someone to cast magic, and there is only so much a person can do without rest or help."

"Quite right, it is against our nature, from the dawn of time, to simply accept that something comes into existence without a cause. My family has watched over Japan for generations, and what happens within this country magically is one of the concerns we must address. It isn't the sort of thing modern politicians are likely to bother with, and the old monarchies are left in place mostly out of superstition and tradition these days. The idea that there is something very serious for us to do, that we have the resources and obligation to do, is something we can not let pass by. Now, would you tell me what happened from the beginning?"

Yugi took a deep breath, and started with how his grandfather came to own the millennium puzzle. It took most of the afternoon to tell the full, unabridged story. The prince just kept them trotting slowly along the winding trails. When he finally got to the ceremonial duel the prince stopped, staring at Yugi in boldfaced disbelief.

"To have to take the life of your friend, and in such a way… It is little wonder you have become a symbol of the ideal duelist. Only a man of honor would understand and accept that fate, and that speaks to the character of all involved. You are truly a modern day samurai, Mr. Mutou. "

"It was hard, but he deserved it. He deserved to rest properly, according to the ways of his own people. It's the law of Ma'at," Yugi said quietly.

"I've looked into it, and it would seem a good way of living. To live in accordance with the balance of nature is a noble aspiration," the prince soothed. They trotted along in silence for some time before either of them spoke.

"You said the noble families know of magic. What does that mean?" Yugi asked. He had a theory, and if what the prince had been saying meant what he thought it did then Ryou's recent extracurricular experiments were about to be redefined.

"We have maintained libraries and traditions of how to harness magical energy, or I should say how it once was harnessed," the prince chuckled softly. "None of them have functioned in a long time."

"Because there wasn't enough magic to make them work," Yugi declared with resounding finality. "So much magic was bound up in artifacts lost to time that it reduced the available energy levels past every threshold."

"You are no one's fool, Mr. Mutou. The destruction of the items released their magic back into nature, and that has been noticed the world over. The balance has shifted, suddenly, back to where it was many centuries ago. The scales are swigging."

"They were so powerful… too powerful, that was the problem," Yugi breathed.

"They weren't always, from what I understand," the prince supplied. "They were once a mild force, designed to use illusion to confuse and neutralize an enemy threat. It was a design flaw that allowed their power to grow unchecked."

"I don't believe that for a moment. It was more deliberate than a design flaw. I don't know all the details, the Memory World game was too twisted to trust anything I saw at face value, but there are a few things I can say for sure. The priest Akanadin was a disgusting man who falsified several facts about the items, most importantly the details of their creation. He attempted to secure the throne for himself through various means. He either intentionally or indirectly drove his brother to suicide. He may have done the same to Atem, and secured a proper burial for himself indicating that he was not found guilty of anything prior to his death," Yugi spat.

"I only have records from official sources, many from surrounding countries rather than from Egypt itself, so I can supply what was known at the time to you."

"I'd like that. After his memories returned he was so quiet about it all. I can't imagine what he felt, the betrayal must have cut so deeply, and in a way he never had a chance to deal with that."

"He can hardly be blamed for not explaining himself. It was his right as a king to keep to his own council, beyond any emotions. It should not be considered a lack of trust," the prince soothed.

"I never blamed him for not talking, and I didn't mean to sound like I did either. If anything, I wish I was clever enough to separate the truth from the lies."

"I see. You are a gentle man, despite your ferocity in battle. The ideal eastern warrior, balancing the destruction of battle with serenity and curiosity," the prince smiled and Yugi wondered if he was being mocked. It sounded vaguely like the compliments Kaiba gave him, honest yet laced with an undercurrent of jealousy. "You truly have been chosen, and it was no mistake." Yugi squirmed, uncomfortable with the continuous praise.

"So magic has returned to the world at large, a huge dump of it that it can't help but be noticed." Yugi switched back to a more comfortable subject. Then he pulled a short stick from his pocket. A tiny gem was hammered into one end of the cherry branch. "Noticed and experimented with," he said, giving the stick a wave. A small trail of sparks followed it, brightly lighting the undergrowth.

"You knew?" the prince sounded shocked.

"Not for certain. It was just an accident. Ryou lost faith in Christianity sometime during his possession. I think the last straw was when he tried to hide in a church at one point, and he might as well have held up an umbrella to a rock slide. He's decided that 'the old ways' as he calls them are more reliable and converted to a form of modern Paganism. It is more eclectic and not what was practiced in Europe before the Christians came through, but he's happy and that's all that matters I think."

"The old European ways?" he asked, confused. "I don't know much about that."

"He has one grandparent on each side from Europe, apparently. He figured that getting in touch with his roots was the best way to get himself together after what happened. It's a religion that borrows from all the old traditions, like some modern philosophers got together and decided that no one way was the right way so they took everything they knew about the old ways and stitched them together into a workable system of worship," Yugi explained as best he could. He'd been considering converting himself, but to one of the Kemetic revivalist branches. "Suddenly he realized that some of the things he was doing were working better than he imagined they could. He can't do much more than make flashlights of dubious reliability or make little things float right now, but he's been working on it in his spare time."

"Interesting," the silver haired man replied. "I've already offered you information, as a basis for a friendly relationship. That could be extended to include your… companion."

"We're just friends, I mean it. What would a friendship with your family entail? I mean politically and personally." They had stopped in the clearing near the stable again.

"We talk about political issues. You can shape this new society that is coming; we want to make sure we have a place in it. You seem to be ill prepared for the place you find yourself in; we are able to give you assistance. It is a simple give and take, politically. As for more personal matters, I am quite serious about making some fine young ladies available for you to meet. If love blossoms, then it will be a joyous occasion; if not, then we will have had a chance to get to know you beyond the media hype," the prince explained. His dark eyes were open and honest enough.

"I consider it an honor that you think so highly of me, and would be glad to talk to you or other representatives from time to time. I'm really not interested in starting some drastic revolution, but you have a point. It has started already, and if the high ranking duelists don't step up it could get out of hand," Yugi said, bowing as much as he could while mounted. The stable hands came out but respectfully stayed out of earshot. "I'm also interested in magic, and I'm not likely to get a better deal about that than what you are offering."

"Then it's settled. We'll be sure to keep in touch," the prince beamed. "I should let you get back to your work for now. If you wouldn't mind, we could keep an ear to the ground about those compromising pictures. If anyone tries to sell them we might be able to intercept the film or data before it becomes a problem."

"That isn't necessary, it's being handled. I just don't want to commit to anything before I know for certain what the fallout will be," Yugi said as he dismounted. The prince dismounted as well and they walked the horses over. "These are wonderful animals, Sir. It has been a pleasure to spend the day with you."

"Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Mutou." The guards lead Yugi to a car to take him back to the city.


	3. Chapter 3

**Trapped in a Mirror Chapter 2**

Two years later:

Yugi slipped his key in the lock nervously, almost wishing he didn't have to come home today. It looked like same door all the tiny apartments had, plain white paint and a steel handle, but he couldn't help noticing the one thing that made this door a little odd: the smoke leaking out from below it and curling lazily along the floor. The doorknob was cool, and the smoke was oddly mint-scented, but that didn't mean that there was something good on the other side. He pushed the door forward against his better sense.

The room inside was quite unlike all the other tiny apartments in the Tokyo high-rise. For one, it seemed much larger inside than the neighboring apartment doors would allow. For another, the left-hand wall was home to what seemed like a mad scientist's chemistry set from a low budget science fiction move. To the center, there was a comfortable sitting area with several tables loaded down with thick tomes that clashed with the ultra-modern décor. Toward the back, a sleek black shelving unit holding a radio, surround sound system, flat screen TV, computer, and the latest videogame platforms was obscured by tendrils of minty green smoke. Finally, there was a skinny young man with prematurely white hair hanging by his belt off a wall bracket that used to hold up a now collapsed shelf of books to Yugi's right.

"Welcome home, Yugi," Ryou said with a wave from his awkward position. "My experiments… got away from me today. Did you have a successful meeting with the developers?" The other man was trying to unhook himself by doing a pull-up on one of the other shelves, but his skinny arms wouldn't hold him if he was straight let alone at the odd twisted angle he was forced into.

"It went well," Yugi replied as he toed off his shows and got the stepstool. He was still short enough to be mistaken for a middle school kid. "They didn't like having fifty-four glitched areas pointed out to them, but it was sloppy work if you ask me. They seemed to think that because of everything else I've been doing I wouldn't have had the time to do a proper play through," he sighed and set down the faithful stool. "They were expecting a general feel and my opinion on marketability, not a verbal lashing about the terrible quality."

"You would never do a poor job, Lord Yugi," Ryou said quietly as Yugi helped him down. During the first year after the ceremonial duel Ryou had nearly killed himself three times out of sheer paranoia. He'd lived for so long with that horrible thing feeding off his and the thief's souls that returning to a normal life was difficult. Adding to that stress he suddenly had to deal with all the loose ends left behind: gangs from all over the island had some tie of loyalty or trust to him, a diary full of prayers and plans written in hieratic that he could somehow read without difficulty, a charge on his account for a storage unit he'd never seen before full of things he didn't want to know the origin of, discovering a drawer he thought was empty full of tools, his hands acting on muscle memory whenever he touched a knife resulting in perfectly cubed vegetables, an alter with small crudely carved statues hidden in his closet, all sorts of things came out of the woodwork. The final straw was when Ryou accidentally levitated his teacup just after high school graduation, resulting in him becoming convinced Zorc was back and after his mortal soul.

It started a long controversy, but in the end Yugi had insisted on moving in with Ryou. He could make sure Ryou wasn't seeing things and help himself at the same time. Truth be told, Yugi hadn't been doing much better than Ryou was at the time. While Ryou jumped at every shadow in what Anzu dubbed a 'classic example of post-traumatic stress,' Yugi was going crazy from doing nothing. So used to the danger, so used to keeping up with the determined will of a god-born king, Yugi had forgotten how to just take care of himself. He was always on edge waiting for Yami's next adventure and kept talking to himself expecting an answer. He simply wasn't used to normal, and couldn't handle being alone when his Grampa went on his trips to visit old friends. It wasn't just the epic battles, with the pharaoh day to day living had been one needy surprise after another.

Once, just after he'd solved the puzzle, he'd come home mentally exhausted from exams and let the spirit take over thinking that it was the perfect solution to let the spirit tire out his body while Yugi's mind relaxed in a sleepy haze in his soul room. He'd awoken sitting in three inches of water in the bathtub, a sense of smug satisfaction echoing from his other half, with about three quarters of his body shaved. He was informed that the king had eaten dinner for them, determined that he could not access as much of Yugi's modern knowledge as previously thought because he could not read any of the books written in English from the shelf, and cut himself a large slice of watermelon for desert. He'd gotten very messy cutting and eating the melon, so the king decided to investigate the plumbing again and managed to draw a cool bath and wash up without incident. The king told Yugi, in a tone that indicated he expected to be thanked, that once he was naked he realized his young partner had been so busy with exams and duels that he had 'forgotten' to shave his body. Being that the king was left handed and Yugi right handed, it made no sense for the spirit to risk cutting Yugi by shaving the bits of their body that were harder to reach with a left hand than a right hand. Thus proving himself to be both willful and lazy in the same stroke, the spirit left Yugi mostly shaved from the eyebrows down. Only the fact that Atem knew wigs were not common in Japan for Yugi's age group and the obvious time Yugi spent to care for his multi-colored hair saved him from becoming bald that day.

Even with no memories of the past, the disembodied king had not given it a second thought that anyone with a modicum of money would own a razor and shave everything off as a matter of cleanliness. In fact, the idea that Yugi owned a very nice bright blue razor seemed proof that it was meant to be used exactly that way. Yugi actually had to look up bathing habits in Ancient Egypt immediately, having been so completely thrown by such behavior. After several days of argument about cultural norms and the definition of 'well groomed' Yugi only gave up his point that it wasn't something normal boys his age did when the stubble became unbearably itchy. After the Atlantis incident he discovered Atem had been using a full kit of makeup and wearing a lot of jewelry, but by that time Yugi had become so used to the king's high standards of living and willful nature that it no longer fazed him. He didn't even ask how he'd bought the obviously expensive supplies, because the answer probably involved high stakes poker and risks he wouldn't be happy about. Atem had been in total control of his body for the majority of that summer break while Yugi's soul was imprisoned, and he was just trying to take care of it in the best way he knew how. The resulting rumors that he was as queer as a bent coin were just another thing to handle in a long list of complications due to sharing his life with an ancient spirit.

Moving in with Ryou gave Yugi someone to take care of, and solved the issue of Ryou being a danger to himself. Before long the white haired young man had calmed down enough to stop jumping at every little noise. With Yugi there to witness the levitating teacups he was able to switch from living a life consumed by terror to living a life consumed by curiosity. At first they wondered if this was healthy, or if he and Ryou had simply switched one dysfunctional mentality for another, but within a month they had both settled down and managed to function in a mostly normal way. Four years later they were still living together, no longer in college dorms but in a nice Tokyo apartment, with only a few traces that anything traumatic had ever happened. Most everyone thought they were lovers, but there were two separate beds in their shared bedroom. It was a line they knew they would never cross, for too many reasons.

"You don't need to call me that," Yugi reminded, pulling himself from thoughts of the past. Yugi had decided back when he first met him that Ryou's fits of extremely formal behavior were a defense mechanism. Whenever Ryou was scared, sick, or angry he spoke with so many 'O's that he sounded like some ancient royal document. "What's wrong?"

"There were gunshots," Ryou said so quietly Yugi almost couldn't hear as he helped lower Ryou to the floor.

"It sounded like gunshots when it exploded?" Yugi glanced at the minimal damage to the room in disbelief.

"No, there were sirens outside followed by gunshots. I dropped the vials I was working on."

"That's not your fault."

"I shouldn't still be so jumpy about…"

"It is not your fault." Yugi held onto Ryou's arms tightly. Ryou relaxed, his shoulders drooping slightly as the panic left exhaustion in its wake.

"I made some exciting discoveries today," Ryou said after a long moment. "I'll make a pot of tea and show you the notes."

"Alright," Yugi agreed, following Ryou into the kitchen. The large main room was connected to a bathroom and kitchen and through that was the single bedroom. It was small, but neither of them had ever needed much. Besides, a larger apartment would make it harder to pay the rent. While the teapot gurgled they came back to start cleaning the mess and crack a window to let out the pleasant smelling smoke. In short order the pair had righted the shelf and cleared a place to set down the tea tray. If there was one thing Ryou never did half way, no matter his mood, it was afternoon tea. A sharp whistle signaled that the tea was done. The outlandish device was actually a water purifier, wind-up egg timer, and coffeepot stuck together with magic and duct tape. It was the first thing the pair of them created that did not need electricity and did not blow up. Well, it didn't blow up anymore.

Ryou laid out his notes while Yugi poured, and the two of them started on a conversation that if overheard would land them both in psychiatric care. Magic may have started its grand re-entry into the world, but that didn't mean anyone believed it yet. Most anyone who believed magic was real was in the same situation as Ryou and Yugi: attempting to make things that did something without blowing up. While there were plenty of old books about magic, nearly all of them were coded, fictionalized, or flat out wrong. Most everyone they had had contact with was going the 'instinctive' route and just doing whatever felt right. Ryou, on the other hand, had latched onto a new theory in physics and plowed into the field of magical reconstruction armed with the scientific method. He was absolutely certain that the so-called 'dark energy' and 'dark matter' astronomers had come up with to explain why galaxies moved too quickly for their equations to work properly was actually magic and magical substances. Yugi wasn't so sure, the whole theory seemed like the easy way out to him, but he couldn't argue with the results. In the two years since he secured assistance from the 'old blood' families the pair of them had made more headway than any other known individual or group.

Their 'teapot' could turn anything but the most polluted water into a drinkable, perfectly brewed pot of tea. It was powered by breaking down the pollutants in the water or a small pouch of sand and using the energy from the chemical bonds to heat the water and transfigure any non-poisonous leaf into a mild green tea, with the tea's quality based on the quality of the leaf. Oddly, tea leaves were less effective than fruit tree leaves. Their security system shrieked and opened all the windows if an open flame larger than one foot tall was detected anywhere within the apartment. The main living area was a full meter longer from entranceway to exterior wall and the kitchen two meters wider from bedroom door to the living room archway than was physically possible, although how that happened they weren't sure. Yugi had figured out how to control things once they started levitating and Ryou unlocked the trick of avoiding gravity in the first place. They owned a grey fighting fish that lived in a bubble of water floating over a pan in their bedroom named Cloud.

It was an expensive thing to do, the setup was elaborate and the materials sometimes hard to come by, but neither of them could pass it up. Ryou never wanted to feel as helpless and useless as he was against Zorc, and Yugi needed something to do with himself that had nothing to do with being the King of Games. Magic was out, about, and being researched by more than just the old blood families. The destruction of the millennium items had freed up enough magic to let the hammer fall on a number of other old magical items. In some cases they had ceased to function since the days when magic was last free but still held a dangerous charge, like a collection of old magical swords the Chrysanthemum Throne had been sitting on for several centuries, now harmlessly melted down. Others simply exploded from the overload, having been made late enough in history that the sudden jump in ambient magic burnt out every power regulation. Then there were the hunters, groups of people sent out to hunt down and destroy magical artifacts now that there was enough ambient magic to do it properly. These groups operate under the idea that now that some magic is free, the best thing to do is free as much as they can before it gets sucked up again. There was a power vacuum in the area of 'great magicians' and not everyone seeking to gain a foothold on this 'new again' kingdom had humanity's best interests in mind. It was a race to figure out as much as they could as fast as they could, and there was no way of tracking the groups that didn't have contact with the same underground channels as they did.

Yugi was easily swept up in the magical work they did. It kept him from thinking about the revolution. Everything was changing. In the four short years since Atem left all of Japan was swept up in a storm of social, political, and economic reform. Honor was making a comeback, radiating out from the duelist community and changing the way people thought and acted all over the world. The idea that being disgraced was a horrible thing not to be endured had come back, with codes of conduct and ethics from days long past being dusted off and refitted to the modern world. The trend of the younger generation being less respectful than their predecessors that had stood for the last century and a half in the western world was reversing. Suddenly, the adage that 'no publicity is bad publicity' was gone. Cheaper products from a company owned by a dishonorable person were passed up by shoppers. Small town shops were taking back ground they had lost to faceless major corporations. Kaiba, with his bulletproof reputation for being an unfeeling but honorable man, suddenly found his competitors folding in the cry of revolution. Political leaders fell for corruption and fresh idealistic faces populated the campaign trail across the world. Controversial superstars suddenly found themselves blacklisted.

It had been the chaos Yugi feared it would be, and he had been forced to step up and fill a role no tournament gamer would have dreamed of years ago. Despite the history of many games as tools to instruct young princes and generals in the arts of political and tactical maneuvering, game culture had become an insular group. It had been centuries since being the best player of one of those games meant anything substantial to the wider world, but suddenly the title holders of games were revered as tactical masters. Yugi had been invited to participate in all sorts of ceremonies, tournaments, and dinners giving him an interesting cash flow and impossibly complex schedule. One notable incident happened a little more than a year ago when Yugi was invited to the Igo Association to play some 'friendly' games with the highest ranks. It was a veiled attempt to survive the social upheaval without completely reinventing themselves, and they repeatedly reminded the reporters of Igo's long tradition as a noble game. When Yugi won two of his five games against the strongest the Tokyo Igo Association could offer he'd passed it off as luck and assured the anxious men that he had no intention of trampling over tradition with his steam-punk fashion and new age behavior standards. He pledged to remain in the armature leagues out of respect for people who loved games too elegant, refined, and traditional to need technological reinventing. Yugi's spur of the moment idea of a holographic projector in the ceiling that allowed two players to play a traditional game 'face-to-face' with real stones on two traditional boards miles apart was praised as a perfect example of how the new ways could live in harmony with the beloved traditions.

Ryou's passion hadn't missed its chance at evolution either. Traditional tabletop Role Playing Games may not have clear cut 'winners' and 'losers' the way competitive games did, but it was quickly (and rather arbitrarily) decided by the revolutionists that RPGs were an artistic domain. Tabletop games were now considered novels written by many authors round-robin, and some were written out during play, edited, and published as novels. RPGs in general became the accepted tools for new age storytellers, and were adopted by bibliophiles whole heartedly. Ryou himself, having become well known as fourth best duelist in the world, attended conferences full of experts in literature and gaming to debate how to give proper literary criticism to this newly respected form of 'performance writing.' The linear adventure games were shifted over to sporty types that liked to get a workout by living in a novel and quickly developed into their own separate genera of motion-sensor driven game play; while more open-ended games became legitimate tools to explore deep issues of character development, psychology, and the social condition.

Such a dramatic shift could not possibly occur completely peacefully. Riots had broken out in several major cities. The some called it a 'twisted desecration of the samurai traditions' or brushed it off as a counterculture fad that would soon perish. Since it targeted underhanded people the movement had its fair share of violence, but on the whole Yugi was surprised at how cleanly the changes were made. It wasn't that corruption and crime were stomped out, but criminals now sported a thin veneer of civility. There had always been a hierarchy of criminals, with some crimes considered unacceptable even among the prison population. It used to be that anyone convicted of harming a child had a high risk of being killed in prison, but the revolution had enhanced self-policing of gangs. Anyone rumored to have done something seriously out of line would suddenly turn up bound and gagged on the local police office's doorstep.

Oddly, it was the actions of the Thief King that instigated that part of the revolution. He'd gotten involved with the gangs of Domino to fund his deck building and pay his 'rent' to Ryou, but the way he ran things improved life for the thieves he commanded. The idea of holding to a code of honor as a way to reduce their chances of getting caught and increase their take had been enforced by the magic power of the Ring and then spread as they interacted with other gangs. Fueled by the revolution sweeping society, even small time crooks started holding up the kind of twisted morality typical of the mafia. The crime rate had taken a significant dive along with tolerance for immorality and dueling became the accepted way to settle a dispute, but at the same time criminals became more difficult to deal with. The jury was still out on if it was a good change or not.

Ryou still had a few weak connections to the gangs the thief had organized, mostly because he feared they wouldn't let him completely back out without consequence. They were convinced even before he spoke to them that he'd been forced to quit the game by some illness or injury and he explained to them that he didn't want that 'weakness' to become public because of his high profile dueling career. They had the opinion that they should take care of the man that gave them power and stability when they were dying in the gutter, almost in a parody of his ex-tenant's attitude. He'd receive congratulatory gifts after a successful tournament and other small courtesies, with the unfortunate side effect that he sometimes received invitations to parties in smoke filled backrooms he could not decline. Over the years Ryou had become very good at the playing a former criminal mastermind forced straight after a poison-induced seizure mad him incapable of controlling his natural fight or flight reaction. He was even included in some planning meetings, where he would advise them about which targets should be considered untouchable (schools, children under thirteen, single mothers) and which were preferred prey (fat cats, gamblers, tourists) for use in their self policing efforts.

Yugi stuffed his soaking hair into a net. It was always such a fight to keep it from becoming a tangled mass of frizz. A sudden knock on the door startled Yugi. Ryou must have forgotten something, including his keys.

"Hello Yugi, I take it you're not expecting company?" Marik greeted him. The Egyptian looked as wild as ever, his cream colored windblown hair held back by a pair of goggles. A red tank top, well worn cargo pants, and some dusty boots completed the look, and it made Yugi wonder how many nights the taller man slept in those clothes by the roadside. "Surprised to see me?"

"Yes! Last I heard of you, Ishizu said you were riding through Europe on some sight-seeing tour. What brings you to this continent?" Yugi ushered his guest inside.

"My sister had to bail me out of a German jail. A lot of good beer and a very beautiful daughter of some stuck up local official came my way, and so I had to go back to Egypt for a while. I hear you two are up to some old tricks, so I thought I should swing by," Marik explained, dropping onto the couch. "Quite the set-up you have here." He gestured to the still bubbling apparatus.

"That's just water to clean it out with; we had a minor mint explosion earlier today. Ryou just ran out for some shopping, you must have passed each other in the elevator," Yugi said. "Excuse my head, by the way."

"That's some odd-smelling dye job. Decided to go full on red?"

"It's actually a prescription. I don't dye my hair red."

"You don't dye your hair, and I never went on an insane rampage across three continents looking for some hunks of overpowered magical gold," Marik joked. "Your roots have always been black."

"I have a skin condition, and about a quarter of my hair grows in translucent red. I use a medicated cream conditioner to keep it from breaking or falling out."

"You're having me on."


End file.
